You pin to me all of the disgrace.
I’m not sure it should be the case,
That all these failings should be mine.
Feels like you wish to make me guilty for every crime.

Not going to back down.
Sick of the same old frown.
Bullied and set in chains.
What is here is not for…
No longer will I accept your aims!

Plaster my face across every wall.
I refuse to become a thrall.
Bend my knee and accept a fate.
One that I did not ever wish nor fight to create.

Not going to back down.
Sick of the same old frown.
Bullied and set in chains.
What is here is not for…
No longer will I accept your aims!

But you will not listen to the words that I speak clearly to you.
All you wish for is another puppet that you can twist and screw.
Why should I let that be my time and torture?
We both know what you want is to heed no quarter.

Not going to back down.
Sick of and replaced that frown.
Bullied but now free of chains.
What is here is not for…
No longer will I accept your aims!
Your games!
Your flames!
Your lack of brains!

I will no longer accept…
I will no longer accept…
I will no longer accept…
Get out of my dreams!

You say I sold my soul to reach my goal.
But the truth is I have never told,
The reality of why I’m still here.
Never even sipped on beer.
For all my words are far too jumbled.
Around me walls seem to have crumbled.
And if I thought it was in my head,
I’d look for a place to make my bed.
Somehow it has never come to that.
A few think me mad as a matter of fact.
But I’d rather be alive and well.
Not drowned at the bottom of some well.
Quite a few have met such a fate.
All stemming from a single mistake.
Such a waste I would have to say.
Not sure as to whether you agree.
It matters little to the point of naught.
Many dreams have long since been bought.
But not mine I can proudly declare.
They will not take me from here.
So keep it quiet and know the board.
Just encase you better pack a chord.
Safety line to get free.
It’s how I’m still standing see.
Thought before I skip I will admit,
You were so wrong about that bit.
I would never sell myself so cheap.
Those are prices I find too steep.
A contradiction yes I know.
Either way it’s time for me to go.

You say life ain’t worth living.
I don’t believe that to be true.
This bouquet of ruin,
Is what was handed to you.

Pressure is mounting and you don’t want a piece.
Rather be curled up in a different place.
But truth is things are not what they once were.
Listening to the world can feel like a spur,
Driven deep into the side of your skull.
Ignore it too long and all things go dull.
So focus on something other than your own voice.
You believe me wrong but there is still choice.

You say life ain’t worth living.
I don’t believe that to be true.
This bouquet of ruin,
Is what you wanted so…

Air your grievances and cast them to sea.
What has been done does not have to be.
The cycle once broken will not return and sing.
If you hear otherwise it is you who does fling,
Hope to the dogs to dwell in the mire.
No one is attempting to act or conspire.
For you are the deity of what is to come.
Don’t let those voices break you down to none.

Cause you say life ain’t worth living.
I don’t believe that to be true.
This bouquet of ruin,
Doesn’t need to be part of you.

You have time I have not.
Build these mountains without thought.
Carve terrain into a valley.
Too many moments filled with folley.

Beaten down into the dirt.
Sick of every moment filled with hurt.
Bags filled with nobodies;
Like species wide obsessed hobbies.

Glance to your periphery.
Comes prior to the jab to be…
Cure for the itching sting.
Screams in your head are haunting,
And when…
All are born only to be still.
These voices are so loud and shrill.
Damning intent; to the cage!
Feels like I’m pinned upon a stage.

I have time you have not.
Build these mountains without rot.
Carved terrain; its now a valley.
All these moments filled so badly.

Was beaten down ’til I was dirt.
Sick of every union filled with hurt.
Bags stuffed full with bodies.
Violence is our species wide set of hobbies.

Glance to your periphery.
Comes prior to the jab to be…
Cure for the itching sting.
Screams in your head are haunting,
And when…
All are born only to be still.
These voices are so loud and shrill.
Damning intent; to the cage!
Feels like I’m pinned upon a stage.

Flames I put to my flesh.
You get one solitary guess.
Immolation for all to see.
From this horror you cannot flee.
Bleary eyed and fixated.
Make you understand the fated.
That we are circling around the drain.
Nothing from this can you gain.
So stop your schemes and your traps.
All it is revealing are more cracks.
A face shrouded behind clay.
Lies that have long since begun to fray.

You build it up ’til it reaches conspiracy,
But behind the scenes you are the tyranny.
What has come is still yet to be.
From this shroud you shoot to guarantee…

Feeding on the witness.
Inflicting desperate sickness.
Molding in attempts to change the truth.
Acting like you are a sleuth.
Casting bright light onto dark.
Pity your words are a self-interested remark.

You build it up ’til it reaches conspiracy,
But behind the scenes you are the tyranny.
What has come is still yet to be.
From this shroud you shoot to guarantee…

And why should we take it anymore?
This is not something that we should score.
Fact is harrowing when you started channelling,
Writhing in the dirt to manipulate the handling.
All to sketch the outline upon blank canvas,
Just so every word you spoke will damn us.
Throw us down into the deep.
The sides of which are too steep,
For us to scale and ascend;
Climb free of and then extend.
Reality of what’s not been said.
You labelled us the snake in your bed.

You build it up ’til it reached conspiracy,
But behind the scenes you were the tyranny.
What had come is still yet to be.
From this shroud you shot in hopes to guarantee.

It won’t do it.
You abused it.
Shredded and bruised it.
Goodbye, you lose it.

What is all of the obsession,
With making people a possession?
Don’t you get that a person is not a thing.
What they are is a human being.
They get to make the choices that they wish.
Not be used and twisted until they become like fish;
Stuck upon your crooked rusty hook.
Starting to think people need to read a book.
Its called the law and common sense,
Instead of living in fictional defence.
Spouting words and claims of freedom,
While what they live is utter treason,
To the very words they do speak,
Truth is so many of these souls are weak.
They preach but yet refuse to practice.
It’s why they like to look proactive.
Illusion shrouded in misdirection;
Time to cut out all of the infection.
Let the rot wither and die.
Move to a point where there are no victims which need to cry.
Cause society would then be so much better.
If it was not fixated on repeating the same error.

You look for idols.
Crave ’em like bibles.
Disappointment comes in cycles.
Stop with recitals.

People are the same no matter what their standing.
Except these names are ones you only know by branding.
So don’t get invested in those you don’t know.
Doing so can end in tears when truth is different, so.
Cultivated and measured to maintain appearance.
Perhaps the truth doesn’t have the brilliance.
They are no star burning brighter than you.
It all rests on how they paint a point of view.

You look for idols.
Crave ’em like bibles.
Disappointment comes in cycles.
Stop with recitals.

Celebrity is just a word to denote fame.
Doesn’t mean they are not playing a game.
Popularity is the currency with which they pay.
Commit to it and they’ll siphon it all away.
Cause status is how they stay in that place.
And few will ever meet the standards you base;
Your view so you can adore and bow down to them.
They’re position is as brittle as a flower stem.

You look for idols.
Crave ’em like bibles.
Disappointment comes in cycles.
Stop with recitals.